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Seek on high bare trails Sky-reflecting violets... Mountain-top jewels

Matsuo Basho

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Matsuo Basho
Age: 50 †
Born: 1644
Born: January 1
Died: 1694
Died: November 28
Artist
Poet
Writer
Vaxjo
Matsuo Basho
Bashō
Bashô
Basho
Matsuo Bashou
High
Violet
Trails
Jewels
Bare
Reflecting
Sky
Seek
Mountain
Violets

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I felt quite at home, / As if it were mine sleeping lazily / In this house of fresh air.
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Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.
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A flute with no holes is not a flute.
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Orchidbreathing incense into butterfly's wings
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Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.
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A thicket of summer grass / Is all that remains / Of the dreams of ancient warriors.
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When I speak My lips feel cold - The autumn wind.
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Come, see the true flowers of this pained world.
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The haiku that reveals seventy to eighty percent of its subject is good. Those that reveal fifty to sixty percent, we never tire of.
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Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought.
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The oak tree: not interested in cherry blossoms.
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Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
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A weathered skeleton in windy fields of memory, piercing like a knife.
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Go to the pine if you want to learn about the pine, or to the bamboo if you want to learn about the bamboo. And in doing so, you must leave your subjective preoccupation with yourself. Otherwise you impose yourself on the object and you do not learn.
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Between our two lives there is also the life of the cherry blossom.
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Fresh spring! / The world is only Nine days old - / These fields and mountains!
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From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.
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Friends part foreverwild geese lost in cloud
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Farewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer?
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Come, butterfly It's late- We've miles to go together.
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